Putting Together the Pieces
by DarkAngelSnapeLover
Summary: After losing Pal tragically, Arthur spends time with his aging grandmother. As their meeting progresses, she teaches Arthur what he needs to know about death. Can young Arthur understand what Grandma Thora is trying to tell him before it's too late? Warning: Character Death, Sadness Level High. Dedicated to Vader the Fox. See inside for more information.


**Putting the Pieces Together**

Warning: Sadness Level HIGH: Tissues, comfort foods, and a good snuggle buddy will be helpful when reading this piece. See the author's note for more information about why I'd write such a sad piece.

Arthur looked up to accept a cookie from Grandma Thora as she brought a plate of piping-hot chocolate chip cookies to the table. She sat across from him with a heavy sigh, the chair creaking as she threw her weight onto it. Grandma Thora was tired, and Arthur could tell. He flipped another page of the photo album while biting into the chocolate chip cookie, not even minding that one of the warm chips melted on his upper lip, staining it with chocolate.

"You're so much like your father, Arthur. I've always loved David so dearly, and it was nice to see that you turned out just like him. You'll be ten soon. That was his peak then. I'm proud of him now, but that was when I loved him the most. He was such a good child, just like you," she smiled, patting Arthur's hand and watching him take another bite of his cookie. "I'm sorry about Pal, Arthur, really sorry. I say you're a lot like your father and I tell these stories because he was like you when he grieved, too. He held it and held it and held it, and one day, it just flooded out like Niagara Falls. Have you ever been there, Arthur?"

"No," he mumbled through another bite of cookie. Grandma Thora nodded and rebegan the story of how she went to Niagara Falls as a young girl. The water was everywhere and it sounded like thunder, and though Arthur had heard the story about two hundred times more than his younger sisters, the story took on new life this time, whether it was because of the cookies or how he felt about losing Pal so soon.

"I've always wanted to go again, but I don't think I'll be able to any time soon," she said, sighing and looking out the window. Arthur followed her gaze. She'd had Arthur and his father install a birdfeeder. It was cold outside and fifteen or more cardinals were dancing around the trees waiting for a huge blue jay to finish. He seemed more handsome today, more blue with better markings of black. His chirp could be heard through the frosted window, and it was the most beautiful thing Arthur had ever heard.

"Are you okay, Grandma Thora?" Arthur eventually asked. He turned to look at his grandmother and he saw that she was weeping gently. "Grandma Thora?"

"I'm fine, Arthur, just old and past my time," she smiled, patting his hand again. "They wanted you to come today because I won't be here much longer. I'm going to be like Pal, but my passing won't be so dramatic, I hope. You've been through enough, and I guess they wanted to show you that death wasn't always graphic or sudden. Sometimes it can be beautiful too, slow in coming, and graceful. I'm going to leave here gracefully, just like I came in."

"No offense, Grandma Thora, but I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to let you go, not now, not after Pal," Arthur pleaded. Grandma Thora smiled, chuckling softly. "This isn't funny, Grandma. This is serious, very serious. Why are you laughing? Stop? Please?" he cried, but Grandma Thora still chuckled.

"You young things don't see death the way we old things do. You've felt pain when you hit your knee or stubbed your toe, but have you ever been pulled out of a deep sleep because your knee started throbbing and your feet started squeezing your toes together so hard tears come to your eyes? I didn't think so," she nodded firmly. "I'm in pain, Arthur, deep pain, the kind of pain that would make a boy like you curl up in a ball and beg for mercy. I've been in this pain for a long time, but I've been able to hide it very easily.

"But this pain is different, the recent pain I've been in. It's what's hurting me, Arthur. There are cells in my body eating away at the good parts. When the bad parts break down the good parts enough, my body will stop functioning. Then, no matter how good the doctors or nurses are, I will pass away. It won't be now, but it's going to happen soon, and I wanted to tell you this, and your parents wanted me to discuss this with you, because you're old enough to see the beauty in death. You're old enough to understand what it means to see the worst things as beautiful."

Outside, a heavy mist began to fall. Arthur soon realized it was snow pouring down, heavier and heavier until he couldn't see outside anymore. A second later, the power flickered off and died, throwing the room into a grey, dull light that barely lit up the photo album in front of him.

Yet surprisingly, the colors felt brighter.

"I've never noticed how red Dad's favorite shirt was," Arthur noted. Grandma Thora smiled and nodded, turning to a picture of an amusement park on the next page. It was nighttime in the shot, and the colors of the lights bounced off young David Read and a younger Grandma Thora like a rainbow piercing through a perfectly clear sky. "Whoa, it's so-"

"Beautiful, even in this light," Grandma Thora smiled, handing Arthur another cookie. "And the taste of your food gets better when you can't see. Do you taste the hint of cinnamon I added?"

Arthur didn't notice it before, but he noticed it now. A light hint of cinnamon was floating underneath the chocolate taste and the cookie flavor. He let the crumbs get soggy on his tongue so he could taste the cookie longer. His next bite was smaller but it had the same effect. He smiled and salivated so hard his cheeks hurt, making him laugh gently.

"The one thing I want you to take from this is how to be a survivor. You didn't handle Pal's passing so well, Arthur. Hiding his things and sleeping on the couch instead of in your own bed is avoiding the problem. You have to embrace what time you spent with him, and then, and only then, will you be able to recover and learn from your experience. Think of some great times you've had with me, even in this moment. When you think about those times, do you feel like you're in that moment again?" Grandma Thora asked, pausing to give Arthur time to think.

Arthur thought of the time he spent New Year's Eve with his grandmother and how he'd gone to sleep almost every time. Last time, just a few short months ago, he outlasted her. He smiled, remembering the fireworks from the television reflecting off the bifocal lenses of her glasses and how when he accidentally bumped up the volume, she woke with a start, smiling and cheering like she'd been awake all along.

"You're there now, Arthur," Grandma Thora whispered. Arthur looked around him. He could still see Grandma Thora's kitchen, but he could feel his own house taking over the scene, the floral couch's cushions sinking beneath his weight rather than a hard chair, and the smell of the fizzy soda that kept him awake. "But it will hurt to go back when you've lost someone, and it's normal to laugh or cry or yell after a moment like that. Embrace it, and don't let anyone try to take those moments away from you, ever. You have those memories and no one else.

"Now try to think of young Pal in his prime. What's your happiest memory?" Grandma Thora asked. Arthur thought for a moment before smiling widely. "Ah, it's the day you brought him home, isn't it?" she guessed. He nodded sternly. Arthur could feel that moment, the puppy bounding in his arms and trying to lick his face while DW stared discontentedly from across the backseat. The memory faded and he felt empty. His smile faded.

"That hurt me here," he said, pointing to his chest.

"It pulled your heart strings. It made it hard to breathe for a moment, I'm sure. But you're back now. Do you feel better?" Grandma Thora asked. Arthur nodded. "You're piecing this together, Arthur. I'm proud of you, so proud of you. I love you so much, so very much, and I hate to leave you, but you know I'll feel better, right? And you'll feel better because you'll know I won't be suffering."

"I understand now," he nodded.

"Then wake up-"

_Wake up, Arthur. Wake up!_

Arthur shot up from the couch to see his mother standing over him with a tear-stained face. His father was in the other room making strange noises, but Arthur barely registered them. He tried looking towards the window where the birds were eating before the snowstorm blocked them out, but there was only a family portrait there. He wiped away at the sticky sensation on his chin, but there was nothing there but drool from where he'd been sleeping.

"Arthur I have awful news," Jane cried. "It's your grandmother, she's-"

"In a better place now," Arthur finished. Jane burst into tears, sinking onto the couch next to him. "She explained everything to me. I understand it now."

"Oh, Arthur! You're my brave little boy!"

Arthur hugged his mother, not really understanding. He knew his grandmother was gone, and he wept for her at night when he thought of her, and when he went to her funeral. But he understood now. He knew what it meant for her to die. And while Pal's death still made his chest hurt and his breathing funny, he understood that too. He kept his things hidden, trying to forget, but he knew that was the last piece of the puzzle after he moved back into his room.

So he framed Pal's collar in a box he made with Buster, and he put a drawing he'd made in third grade behind it just to remember. It hurt at first to look at it, but gradually it got easier to forget the painful parts and remember the good parts. So when he looks up at the collar on the wall, he smiles, just like he smiles when he sees Grandma Thora dancing like a wild young woman in his dreams.

~End

_**In Memory of Vader the Fox.**_ It hurts to write this, little buddy, even though I never knew you in person. I felt like I knew you and that you were mine in my heart, but you aren't. You're everyone's now. See you again one day. May the force be with you.

The story behind this dedication: Vader was a domestic fox owned by Tara and Eric, a loving couple with a large heart and a huge love for animals. Tara ran a blog on Tumblr called MayTheFoxBeWithYou. She's left the site now (at my current knowledge) because of the pain she feels after losing her beloved pet.

According to what I've seen online, someone threatened her anonymously on Tumblr saying they would call in a false report to say that Vader had bitten them. The next day, officers showed up at Tara, Eric, and Vader's door with this false report, and they forcefully removed him from the home. Eric told the officers how to handle Vader, as he is a wild animal, but the officers ignored their plea and one was bitten. These smug officers told the couple they could work with the city to get Vader back, and they took him to the local pound.

The following day, an officer delivered Vader's collar, telling them the awful news that Vader had been euthanized.

Thousands, maybe even millions, of people are outraged because of the injustice in this case. The allegations that Vader bit someone didn't seem to be investigated, and the officer who seized him seemed to be welcoming a bite, signing the poor fox's death sentence. When I last researched the subject, it seemed their local police officers were trying to hide the case, which proves to me and many others that there was far more to this case than is known to the rest of the world. This is why I'm so upset, as are so many others: Vader was a kind fox who never actually bit anyone, and he was murdered to fulfill the darkness in someone else's heart.

Why I wrote an Arthur fan fiction to share my grief is beyond me. I wrote this the Monday after I found out because I just didn't know how to deal with myself. Vader was a huge part of my daily life online, specifically on Tumblr, and to this day, I've been on the site just long enough to see what I could discover about the poor fox and his amazing owners. At the time, I didn't know that my theory that cyberbullies technically killed him was fact (ask me about that if you want to know more), so now I'm even more upset, and I've decided to post this and this long explanation to try to feel better, which isn't easy to do. I'm trying to work on an actual tribute piece for him, but it's hard to write when you feel so sick inside.

For more information, please see my profile for links, and feel free to ask me more about Vader's case. I'm going to try to stay updated on it because I hope something comes out of this other than destruction and death. There is a petition circulating on that I'll be posting a link of and signing. I don't know what that can do in this situation, but if someone wants to hear our voices, I guess that's a great way to shout out. Also, some of Vader's supporters have contacted Ellen (the blonde comedian whose last name escapes me right now) to see what she can do. Hopefully America can come up with legislation to investigate these claims further so this won't happen again. I understand that officers and officials have to destroy nuisance animals for the good of society, but I feel like they should investigate first and kill later, especially in a case like this when every single step went so horribly, despite the owners trying their hardest to cooperate. As you can see, I can write for hours about this topic, so if you want to discuss this further, please contact me so we can all work through our pain together.

Thanks for reading and sorry if I made anyone too upset with this story. I just had to get my grief out, and at least I added a tissue warning so you could be a little more prepared.

Theme 047: Puzzles

To complete the themes yourself, I have the list posted on my profile. The list is for any type of fan fiction (one-shot, drabble, etc.) and any fandom. Challenge yourself in other ways to make it more fun, and enjoy!


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